The Hunt for Snapdragon
by Nachtgespenst
Summary: Hunted down by order of their king after the queen is killed by magic, those they call witches fled beyond the Border, unknowingly upsetting the magical balance of the realm. Alfred, a young Hunter and prince of the royal court, encounters a witch who calls himself Snapdragon, who refuses to accept fate as an exile as his beloved forest starts to wither. US/UK & minor pairings
1. Prologue

**Hello! This story was one I'd originally started on the kink-meme a looong time ago and never got around to finishing (hell, I didn't get very far in the first place. =A=;;), but I had so many ideas for it and decided I'd give it another go, now that I'm older and (perhaps) wiser with a little more understanding that planning is very neccessary. xD It may be slow going, but I have known and enjoyed many fics that follow that route so my hope is that you, dear reader, will hang in there and enjoy this too. Another reason I am posting here is for feedback- I would be ever so appreciative of any reviews, comments, and suggestions to help me improve. **

**With that, I better get on and let you read this, hadn't I?**

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**_- Prologue -_**

Feet pounded against the soft earth as the two boys ran through the forest, ignoring the burning protest of their smoke-filled lungs, their breathing coming short and sharp against the back of their throats. Dodging low-hanging tree branches and creeping undergrowth, they tried not to drift too far from each other as they fled their pursuers. Separation in this forest while they weren't paying attention would no doubt be the end of them both.

The sound of the horses had slowly come to a halt and the older of the two knew they were now past the border, far enough into the darker depths of the wood that animals from outside feared to tread any further. Still, he dragged his cousin on, not doubting the persistence of the men on horseback.

The younger had begun to stumble every so often after a few more minutes of panicked flight, the muscles in his legs straining against the prolonged over-exertion and he pleaded with the other boy for rest, the hunters would not find their unmarked path now. The older nodded, pointing ahead to the gap in the trees which showed the lake glittering in the moonlight, the mountains on either side cast in shadow.

Shaky, relieved sighs escaped them when their feet touched the cool water, though there were no smiles. Too much had been lost tonight for there to be any cheer when the soft glow from the water brightened and the water faeries rose to dance around them in welcome. Their voices turning into a soothing melody as the pair rested and waited.

They climbed into the small boat that eventually drifted over, slumping down onto the straw-padded seat, and looked back to the way they had come, watching the thick tendrils of smoke curl their way up in the sky. The dirty grey highlighted from below by the fire even now consuming their village.

Their choked sobs filled the air as the faeries flitted around them, washing their dirtied and burned skin, offering water to drink, petting their tear-stained faces and singed hair as the boat slowly made its way across the water, the fey-lantern hanging from the front guiding its way.

Exhaustion quickly caught up with the pair and they drifted off with the help of the faeries' soothing gestures and wishes for a dreamless sleep, and the boys woke up a few hours later to find they had passed between the mountains and arrived on the far bank.

Green eyes flicked worriedly to dark blue before gazing to the forest entrance, faint balls of light hovered through the trees, beckoning them in.

"It's like the wood was waiting for us, Leif..." There was a hint of wonder in the younger's voice. He had never been so far across the border before. The other boy's mouth twisted ever so slightly into a wry, bitter smile.

"So it would appear, Arthur."

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**Leif = Norway**


	2. Chapter 1

**Hello all! Hope you had a lovely New Year. Thank you so much for the follows and favourites so far for the bitty little prologue I gave you, it means a lot. ;v; Also thought I'd mention that while I have 'minor pairings' in the summary, I'm not sure how much they will actually factor in this. Obviously not as much as the USUK, haha, but I thought I'd mention before I disappoint that I haven't turned the whole thing into a shipping fest. xD**

**Anyway, I hope this chapter satisfies. ovo**

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**- Chapter One -**

Arthur did not move as he felt the first fat droplets of rain hit his face, eyes staring intently from his vantage point in the tree. He had been out hunting deer and collecting herbs just outside the Border when he heard the tell-tale sound of trotting hooves and quickly pulled himself up into the safety of the branches, soon spotting three hooded men riding in along the cleared path, travelling cloaks wrapped about them and bulging saddlebags bouncing on the horses' flanks.

Watching them pass underneath him, his fingers idly stroked the fletching of an arrow, waiting to see which path they would take. It was not uncommon for people to travel through the edge of the forest, since it provided some shelter from the elements and they could hunt to save their provisions, but Arthur eyed the group with mistrust anyway.

They could be simple merchants or messengers, he couldn't see any emblems or fine decoration from where he was to suggest high ranking officials or diplomats, so it would depend on where they would head. The right fork would continue on until the forest thinned out, passing by a small village before becoming a larger road leading to the capitol. Left and, well, only desperate and foolish thieves tried to hide deeper in the forest. That or hunters, not just the kind after a bit of rarer game.

There was always the chance they could be travellers from much further away, who didn't know the exact boundaries of the forest or its dangers, the ones that brought with them fine fabrics and trinkets for the capitol's vibrant market. Those, Arthur could easily ward away with a warning, since they were often wary enough that the advice was appreciated and taken. Turning his attention back to the riders, Arthur frowned as he saw them turn down the left fork in the path, moving onto a rougher track that led further in. Well that just wouldn't do.

Silently, he hung his bow over his quiver and slipped down the tree to follow, footfalls covered by the light rain hitting the trees' canopy overhead.

Arthur hung back in the undergrowth, watching as the three dismounted in a small clearing and started to empty the packs. Green eyes noted the weapons that were set down and the ones that flashed under their cloaks, confirming his suspicions. They were armed for far more than simple game hunting, and it was hardly packed up like merchandise.

Definitely hunters.

They had stopped just short of the border, not something a regular person would know, but Arthur's sight could see the subtle details in the trees that formed the barrier. Tugging his scarf up over his nose and securing it tightly, Arthur moved closer to try and catch what the men were talking about.

"I really don't think we should venture too far in, sir," said the tallest of the three, who was bringing up the rear of the trio. He could see in comparison to the other two riders' narrower frames that he was broad shouldered and well muscled. It seemed that brawn came with brains however, since he seemed to be the only one trying to convince the group to turn back.

"What, are you scared brother? Worried a little witch might get to you~?" The one riding to the front cackled, turning back to grin at his companions, the middle hunter laughing quietly.

"You worry too much Ludwig. Nothing wrong with a bit of adventure, right?"  
The arrogant air about the three made Arthur's lip curl in disgust, riding around like they owned the forest. This was just a game to them. Witches might not be killed since the overzealous vigilantes would raid in the first months after the queen's death, but so-called hunters did still try to round them up as twisted proof of loyalty to the king. What they did with them after that, Arthur didn't know, but he highly doubted it was anything good.

They set about making a little camp, resting a pot over a fire the tallest rider (Ludwig, Arthur heard them call him) had made and dropping food from a saddlebag inside. The other two spoke animatedly, something about a market to the west and how the girl at one stall was definitely making eyes at one and not the other. The one with the obnoxious cackle (Gilbert, conversation informed Arthur) eventually moved to his horse and shed his cloak before heading back to bother Ludwig as he stirred the pot.

The third rider didn't join him in his mischief this time though, instead walking around the edge of the clearing and looking into the forest beyond. The witch started to worry- he was only a few paces away, slowly coming closer, but Arthur felt frozen to the spot. Moving to run now into the safety the Border would grant him would no doubt give him away and cause the other to follow, so instead he nocked an arrow; prepared to fire when the hunter finally turned to face him. A fairy flew up to him from the cover of a swell of vibrantly red and orange snapdragons, hovering by his shoulder in concern. He sent her a reassuring glance, but sent his attention quickly back to the hunter in front of him.

To his dismay though, as their gazes finally met, wide sky blue on forest green, Arthur found himself unable to move. The only relief in the situation was that the hunter seemed to be suffering the same disability, and the witch withheld an almost familiar shiver that coursed through him.

That had been an undeniable spark of magic, Arthur was sure of it. He hadn't cast anything but the energy of it hung heavily along with the tension in the air, and he could feel his skin prickle with it, even if the other didn't feel it or recognise the significance.

The other, Arthur realised with some trepidation, was one of the kingdom's princes, he was sure of it. He remembered attending the birthday parade in Sercia's capital, Rhavina, a few months before the chaos of the Hunting began; the two brothers had shared it since their birthdays were so close. Those sky blue eyes were still as striking, despite the younger prince's features shedding its childish roundness and making way for the handsome features that were evident even then. It had been seven years, but Arthur had never forgotten that face.

However Arthur didn't spend all his time in the forest. The Royal Guard tried to insist they did to keep the more reckless hunters from targeting people in towns less after the horrific spate of vigilantes razing villages to the ground. Of course they visited the cities, only they were smart enough not to draw attention themselves. There were still plenty of those who supported witches, but there were also plenty of those who would rather do as their authority told them (or fall to the shiny gold bribe from hunters) and rat them out, so help could be a little hard to come by. Either way, Arthur had come across a few of the public appearances of the royals when sneaking into the larger towns; mostly the eldest brother, Matthew, meeting with mayors but on rare occasion he would be joined by the younger, Alfred. They seemed as different as night and day; the former quiet and courteous while the latter was spirited and impulsive. It didn't matter what the fond civilians called it, Arthur would rather say thoughtlessly rash.

What he hadn't expected was for Alfred to be here in the forest as a _hunter_. It made Arthur dislike him all the more; even if he could understand the reasoning behind it. If the queen, who had been very popular amongst the citizens of Sercia (even Arthur had liked her and what she tried to do for the people of her country), had truly been killed by magic, the prince had good reason to go after who he believed was the killer. But to go out and hunt innocent people; people who had worked just as hard and honestly as any other person around them, but had the fortune of being born with magic- That, Arthur could not look past.

"Hey! What ya starin' at out there? Ludde's awesome stew is nearly done!" The silence snapped, and Arthur loosed the arrow, letting a barrier spell follow after it, and watched it thud to the ground just clear of the campfire. A silvery web quickly spilled out from the point of contact, snaring itself around the ankles of the other two hunters (Alfred's personal guard, no doubt) as they cried out in surprise.

"Magic!" The prince gasped, staring as another arrow joined the other in the ground as his guards ineffectually tried to pull the silvery strands from their legs. He spun his attention back to Arthur, who had taken a few steps back to the tree behind him, ready to climb up into its boughs and escape. "Release them immediately, witch!"

The contempt in his voice at the word made Arthur wince. It had been a while he'd encountered direct hate. He summoned up a little courage as he quickly pulled another arrow from his quiver, incredibly thankful his voice didn't betray him with a waver, "Leave the forest, you're not welcome here!" The prince made to step toward him and Arthur raised the bow, ready to fire. "Don't come any closer! Or- Or I'll set fire to that spell!"

Alfred glared, scowl marring his handsome face, moving forward anyway in defiant challenge, clearly not thinking much of the warning. Arthur panicked, he hadn't intended on confronting any of them, let alone shoot a _prince_ of all people. The bowstring slipped through his fingers, narrowly missing and grazing high along the royal's cheek as he dodged just enough out of the line of fire.

Arthur hissed a word that felt hot on his tongue and the arrow beside his initial one burst into flames, startling Ludwig and Gilbert and causing them to move back from it as best they could as it quickly roared up into a blaze.

The hunter lunged forward before Arthur could react, grabbing the front of his shirt tight enough to make him gasp as they slammed back into the tree. He could feel a strap at the witch's throat and made sure to wind his fingers around it to make it harder to pull away.

"Let my men go right now!" Alfred demanded, watching green eyes harden after getting over the initial shock, one hand coming up to try and wrest free from his grip; something Alfred grinned at. There was no way he'd be budging that.

"I warned you," Arthur hissed in return, "Not my fault if I follow through on a threat you were too thick-headed to listen to. But I bet you're used to making lots of empty threats right, Prince Alfred?" It was Alfred's turn to blink in surprise, wondering how a witch would know his identity if they hid in the forest, causing Arthur to smirk in turn at catching him out which only irritated the prince further.

"Who are you to accuse me of that? It's also totally false- I don't do that at all!" No, that kind of thing wasn't cool at all- and neither were false accusations. Alfred growled, narrowing his eyes in what knew could be a terrifyingly sharp glare. This guy didn't know him at all, so how could he make assumptions like that?!

Arthur sneered, lip curling up in an act of defiance despite the painful hold Alfred had on him. The prince hardly deserved to learn his real name. The plants under their feet rustled as he stepped back and the grip at his neck tightened threateningly, causing a nearby fairy to flitter to Arthur's side, humming with worry.

"It's Snapdragon to you, _your highness_," He drawls out the title mockingly before shoving Alfred hard in the stomach. The sudden pain came with a crackle in the air and it was enough to loosen the prince's vice grip and cause him to stumble back a few paces, eyes wide as he finally felt the effects of the magic between them.

Arthur didn't hesitate to seize the window of opportunity given to him, and strung together a string of Fey-speak, the ground beneath his feet beginning to glow as the energy around him responded. Before Alfred could respond, Arthur thrust a hand out in the trio's direction and strong wind followed, tearing its way through the trees from across the Border and causing their horses to bolt. He could feel the sweat springing up from exertion for trying such a complex spell, so Alfred could clearly see the look of apprehension and fear when the wind died down again, clearly having expected something else.

The prince had pushed himself up again, and was clearly about to give the witch a piece of his mind when a sense of disorientation overcame him.

A beat- though Arthur's heart was running far faster- and then the trio vanished before his eyes.


End file.
